Delayed by an accident
by Calusca
Summary: Reboot 2018: Rick has an accident. Been bitten by a dog and in extrem pain, he loses himself a bit. But his friends take care of him...
1. Chapter 1

The phone rang and when Thomas Magnum heard that, he was relieved. Rick, finally.

"Where are you?" Thomas asked without preamble. "We're waiting for you for ..." He looked at his watch. "More than an hour now."

Higgins and TC turned to face him and Thomas turned on the speaker and put the phone down on the table in front of him.

"I ..." Rick started and then fell silent.

"Buddy?" asked Thomas, now worried. "What's up?"

TC came closer, Higgins sat down on a chair next to Thomas.

"I've had an accident," Rick said flatly, "I hit a dog on a road... and then ... someone else bumped into my car... it's going to take a while here ..."

"You alright?" Thomas asked, "Are you hurt?"

"No ... yes ... no ..." They exchanged concerned looks. They had rarely heard Rick so confused.

"Where are you?"

"I gotta ... go," Rick said. "Tell Higgins and TC, I'm sorry. That ... "He snorted," was not the plan. "

"Brother, where are you?" TC intervened. "We can help."

"No ... not necessary," Rick said firmly. "I'll be fine."

And then the connection broke off leaving the three friends in Thomas's living room extremely confused.

So much for the movie night.

* * *

Rick was sitting in the waiting room of an vet clinic, with a handkerchief wrapped around his right hand to staunch the bleeding from a wound a dog had brought to him that lay now on the operating table.  
Rick himself struggled to put the events of that night in order because his head ached even though he had not hurt himself there and the wound on his hand was pounding and he was pretty sure he was bleeding to the floor. The veterinary clinic was still a buzzing center of an exciting night. His dog was the worst case, but there were a lot of people here bringing their sick dogs or cats, injured wildlife or other emergencies. Rick looked at the big station clock hanging over the reception counter and read the time, but when he looked away he had already forgotten about it.

He had been a soldier, but a runaway dog brought him so much out of balance now? What was wrong with him, damn it?

He was warm. Halfheartedly, he watched as one case after another was called and the room gradually emptied until there was only one hawaiian family at the other end, with two children of perhaps six and ten years, evidently anxious, until a young woman in green surgical clothing squatting in front of the children and telling them something. The smaller of the children began to cry. Rick let out a shaky breath. He was warm and a bit dizzy.

For a moment he was irritated: what was he waiting for?

Then, without warning, someone suddenly sat down next to him and put an arm around his shoulders and someone else squatted in front of him, trying to pull his clenched fist apart.

"Let me see that."

Thomas. Thomas crouched in front of him, carefully holding his right hand in his.

"You're bleeding. _A lot_. Let me take a look, buddy, come on ... "

"Didn't anyone care about the injury?" Higgins asked next to him.

"The dog ..." Rick said and then did not know further.

"_Your_ injury," Higgins pointed out mildly.

Rick took a deep breath and felt a little better. His friends were here. He looked up and straight into TC's worried face.

"How did you find me?"

"Tracked your phone," TC rumbled. "Why didn't you tell us where you are?"

"I ..." Rick shook his head.

TC exchanged a look with Thomas and Higgins.

"You're in shock, brother," TC said. "We'd best take you to a hospital."

"No, I..."

All three looked at him, but when nothing came, Thomas sighed.

"Listen, you have a deep wound on your hand, it has to be taken care of. And you are not really lucid, that worries us. Did you hit your head? "

Rick looked at him blankly. Had he?

"No," he said carefully.

"Do you even remember the accident?" Thomas asked skeptically.

"Crystal clear," Rick replied, but did not elaborate.

"Okay," TC said, "that's enough. We're going to the hospital ... "

"Hey," said a voice next to him, a bit lower. TC looked down and saw a receptionist, very young, with piercings and tattoos as far as the eye could see. She was wearing a purple smock and somehow the color looked good on her.

"Mr. Wright has made all the necessary details of the accident, "she said," also to the police. And he has already paid for the surgery. "

"_What_?" TC asked, now confused. "What surgery? Police? " He turned around. "Orville, what the hell...?"

The purple woman raised her hands placatingly.

"The doc is coming soon. We can supply his wound here. We do that a lot. "She smiled. "We are also constantly bitten."

"Bitten?" Thomas exclaimed. "What bit you?"

He put his hand on his friend's knee and felt that Rick was shaking all over. Higgins had to feel it too, because her arm was still on Rick's back.

"The dog," Rick said, as if explaining something very simple to Thomas.

"That you hit."

"Yes."

"Bit you."

"Yes."

"How did that happen?" Thomas asked, but Rick was too tired now.

He closed his eyes and let his head sink. He was so dizzy and his skull was throbbing in pain.

"... _Rick_!" He opened his eyes again, but found it hard.

Thomas had grabbed him by both shoulders and shaken him. He looked extremely worried.

"Stay with us!" he said.

"It's alright," Rick muttered.

"Nothing is _alright_," Thomas said firmly. "You are drifting, Rick, you're not entirely with us. You probably have a concussion ... "

He took a breath.

"And this." He gestured to the bloody handkerchief that was now again tied to Rick's hand.

"Can you move your hand?" Higgins asked softly. "Stretch your fingers?"

Rick tried and it looked okay, albeit slowly.

"A bit stiff," he said.

Thomas snorted.

"An inch deep, almost hit a bone, so maybe it's _a bit stiff_."

"All right, Thomas," Higgins told him. "Help will be provided right away."

"_No_," TC interjected. "We're going to the emergency room _now_. Who knows what the bite did. It has to be x-rayed. "

"There's one more." Rick felt that now was the time to move on. "One more bite."

And he pushed his right sleeve up a bit and showed them another impressive bite wound.


	2. Chapter 2

He must have fallen asleep, just for a minute.

It was the combination: the pain from the bites, the long night, the drowsy background noise. Someone had dimmed the light in the room and when he opened his eyes, he saw an IV pole standing next to him. Something dripped slowly into his arm. He turned his head as carefully as possible and looked at the bag. Three quarters full. That would take a while.

"What time is it?" he asked into the room, knowing that his friends wouldn't leave him alone that night. A rustle beside him, then the scraping of a chair.

"Half past one," TC's voice said.

He closed his eyes again.

"We have all the time you need," TC said calmly. "Sleep some more …"

Rick took a deep breath. He didn't feel tired anymore, maybe exhausted and a bit dizzy. He opened his eyes again and sought TC's eyes.

"What is that stuff?"

TC smiled mildly at him.

"Antibiotics, pain killers ..." He shrugged. "They asked about your tetanus status."

"Yes," Rick said, looking up at the ceiling. "I'm wondering about that, too."

"You will need to brush it up."

Rick sighed. As if that was the worst thing of the night. He lifted his arm a little and looked at the bandage that had been put on his hand. It was thicker than Rick would have thought, considering the wound was not that big.

"It was a deep bite," TC pointed out. "Just missed the metacarpal bone and done some minor damage to the tendons and muscles. The other bite narrowly missed the artery, but wasn't that deep. It bled a lot, though. You were really lucky. "

When had the wounds actually been sewn? Had someone explained to him what TC had just said? Had he been awake? TC laughed softly.

"You really cannot be left alone for a minute. You always find a way to get yourself into trouble. "

"Maybe," Rick admitted. "Where are the others?"

TC stretched his back. He had propably sat there for a while.

"Get a coffee." He turned his attention back to Rick. "The pain shouldn't be too bad right now. The anesthetic should still work. "  
He studied his friend. "Or not?"

"I feel nothing," Rick said bravely.

TC looked at him skeptically.

"Are you dizzy?" He asked. "Or do you feel sick? Maybe you _do_ have a concussion ... "

Rick groaned and raised his good hand to his temple. Absently, he rubbed a sore spot.

"TC, I'm fine …"

"According to the circumstances."

Rick dropped his hand. Everything hurt, every movement was painful.

"Yes," he said. "Exactly. The circumstances."

* * *

He was discharged the next morning, much to the relief of his friends, none of whom slept for a single minute that night.

"Can you take me to the vet clinic, please?" Rick asked.

TC simply stared at him.

"What do you want there?" He asked uncomprehendingly.

"My car is there."

TC shook his head.

"You're not driving a car now. I'll take you home, you'll rest. We'll get it later. "

"TC, I have to work," Rick said. "I can not just-"

"Just _what_?" TC exclaimed. "Brother, you don't understand. You suffered two deep bite wounds that needed to be stitched, you were involved in a car accident and you're still not fully lucid. You probably also have a concussion, because nothing you say makes sense!"

He had raised his voice and glared at Rick.

Thomas and Higgins, who had already gone a bit, came closer again.

"You won't work today. Not tomorrow either. You'll go to bed and I'll make sure you don't walk around, making your condition worse."

Rick sighed.

"TC …"

"No, _Orville_!"

"TC," said Higgins.

"TC ..." Thomas started. "It's okay, calm down."

TC pointed with both hands to Rick, stunned.

"He wants to work!"

Thomas placidly raised a hand. He turned to his injured friend.

"Rick," he said. "TC's right. These are severe injuries, so you should take it easy for a few days. Please do us a favor and let TC take you home. And there you'll keep bed rest, okay? Higgins and I will come to you tonight and we will try to shed some light on the matter. _If_," he emphasized, "you feel well enough."

He carefully put a hand on Rick's shoulder.

"Okay?"

Rick sighed. He knew his friends were just worried about him. He owed it to them to act rationally now.

"Sounds like a plan."

* * *

Author's Note: Besides 15 seasons ER on the telly I don't know anything about medicine. I have been bitten by animals, though. Dog bites are very dangerous and anyone who will be unlucky enough to be a victim of such circumstances should seek medical care immediately! Don't try to be brave or delay your visit with a doctor. Obviously I use the dog bite(s) as a catalyst for a certain drive of a story. The medical facts are not quite right. I'm sorry for that.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: I'm obviously not an english native speaker - far from it. But I'll try to do my very best.

* * *

It was quiet in the apartment, TC took care of that.

He had actually insisted that Rick lie down in bed, had a chair posted nearby, and made himself at home. Rick hadn't think so, but he was suddenly dead tired and fell asleep within minutes.

When he woke up, it was hours later and TC wasn't in sight.

Rick took advantage of that and took a shower after wrapping the bandages with a plastic foil. Showering with two injuries became an adventure, but afterwards he felt much better. He changed into a fresh tshirt and sweatpants and went in search of his friend. He found him in the kitchen, where TC was putting together a few sandwiches.

"Are you feeling better?" TC greeted him.

"Yes," Rick replied dutifully and sat down. He watched TC make the sandwiches, but he coudn't imagine to eat something now.

"Don't worry," TC told him. "_The_y won't bite you."

"Very funny."

"Seriously," TC said, setting aside a knife, and sitting down opposite Rick. "Are you in pain?"

There was no point in lying. TC would find out.

"A little bit," Rick said. "But it's bearable."

TC raised an eyebrow.

"Do you want something for it?"

Rick shook his head.

"I've just started coming off," he said. "Let me please live at least half an hour without being doped again."

TC nodded.

"That sounds more like you again."

He set a plate with a sandwich in front of Rick and immediately Rick felt his stomach turn. It had to be visible on his face because TC said gently:

"Please try to eat something. These antibiotics are really strong stuff. On an empty stomach, you'll get sick ... "

"I'm already sick," Rick objected. "TC, please …"

But TC didn't let it go.

"Try." '

* * *

They watched two movies that Rick didn't catch because he kept drifting away. His efforts to eat something had been miserable and TC hadn't lost sight of him since he took another dose of antibiotics.

The afternoon went into the evening and they saw the news, then something that Rick didn't understand, but he didn't make any real effort, either. At some point it rang and TC got up. A little later, Thomas and Higgins stood in the door, smiling cautiously. Thomas asked how he was doing and Higgins even hugged him. After the meal they had brought along – Rick couldn't eat that much - they turned off the TV and sat down in the living room.

"Do you feel well enough for this?" Thomas asked him.

"Depends on what _this_ is going to be," Rick replied and he didn't miss the fine smile of Thomas. "What?"

"You definitely sound better," said Thomas, relieved. "More like yourself again."

"I really must have been out of it yesterday," Rick said and nobody contradicted him.

"So," Thomas started. "Can you tell us what happened yesterday?"

Rick sighed deeply.

"I was on one of the outbound roads, but I don't remember which one. It was dawning, but I can't remember _not_ paying attention. Then suddenly there was a shadow, right in front of my car. I braked, but too late. There was a bang from the impact, then another when someone from behind hit my car. "

"Which side did the shadow come from?" Higgins asked .

"From the left."

"What happened then?"

"I ... got out and checked ... I knew I hit something and hoped it was an animal and not a ... human, but I wasn't so sure." He had to gather his thoughts for a moment and his friends let him. "Then I saw the dog. He was right in front of the bonnet and there was blood everywhere ... "

Thomas and Higgins exchanged a look, tearing Rick out of his concentration.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Nothing," Thomas replied. "Go on."

Rick took a deep breath.

"I got on my knees next to it and saw that one of the wounds was bleeding extremely. I ... think, I got the first aid kit and ... took care of it."

Thomas leaned forward.

"You've had the artery clamped," he explained. "Otherwise the dog would have died on the spot. That's where old training took control of the situation."

He smiled.

Rick leaned back.

"Looks like."

"What happened next?" Thomas asked.

Rick shrugged.

"I don't know anymore."

Suddenly it was very quiet. His friends looked at him and the worry had returned to their faces.

"Where does your memory return?" Higgins finally asked.

"In the vet clinic."

"You called us," Thomas said. "Do you remember that?"

Rick shook his head slowly.

"Thomas," TC warned. "It's enough for today."

"I'm fine, TC," Rick said tiredly, but it didn't sound convincing.

"No, TC is right," Thomas said. "You are not yet-"

"I want to go on," Rick said firmly. "What does the police say? You were with the police, right? "

Thomas and Higgins exchanged a look, then Thomas looked at TC, who nodded once. Thomas smiled reassuringly at Rick.

"You took care of the dog first and then checked on the driver in the other car. But she was alright. And then you called the police. "

"I don't remember any of it," Rick said blankly.

"That'll come back," Higgins said softly.

"The patrol has taken the accident and taken photos of the vehicles."

Rick looked down and shook his head.

"Then you took the dog to the nearest vet clinic."

"I didn't even know this clinic," Rick objected. "How did I know about it? "

Thomas shrugged.

"When Thomas had this case with the missing cat," TC commented. "We'd checked all the vets in the area. This clinic was one of them. "

They let Rick process this for a moment, then Thomas said, "We looked at your car." He put the keys on the coffee table. "We brought it, by the way."

"The strange thing is," said Higgins, "there's hardly a scratch on your car. Nothing that would explain such serious injuries to the dog. So we were again in the veterinary clinic. And there we were told, the deep wound that had bled so badly would be a gunshot wound. "

Rick looked at her, a shade paler than he had just been.

"Did the dog survive?" he asked.

Higgins took a deep breath.

"Yes, he has."

"Your injury must have inflicted by the dog when you tried to stop the bleeding of it's wound," added Thomas. "There's no other way to explain it." He cleared his throat. "It bit your hand, but you were not deterred. And then it has bitten again. "

Rick had become quiet. He nodded as if to himself and looked down.

"A gunshot wound," he said. "Who the hell does something like that?"

"The dog has got no pet chip," said Higgins. "De facto he belongs to nobody. It may be that he has been driven out of a property as a stray. "

"With a handgun."

"A 9mm, yes."

Rick closed his eyes, trying to suppress a groan. He was so tired.

"It's enough," TC said softly.

"Yes," Thomas said, nodding at Higgins and getting up. "Can we leave you two alone? Rick? "

"Yes," Rick said dully. "TC will not let me out of his sight, I think."

"You bet."


	4. Chapter 4

Author's note: Thank you so much for all your reviews! It's really encouraging. And inspiring.

* * *

He was in pain that night.

He made it to the bathroom, but woke TC while trying to be as quiet as possible, because a moment later his friend was standing in the doorway.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Nothing," Rick replied, already exhausted.

"Yes," TC said, "I can see that." He studied his friend for a moment. "You're in pain, right?"

Rick bit down a groan and nodded.

"Okay," TC said. "Are you done here?"

"Yeah."

"Let's get you back to bed."

He grabbed Rick by his uninjured arm and propped him on the way to the bed. As Rick sank into the pillows, he literally saw stars. He closed his eyes and heard TC rustle around him.

"Buddy?" TC asked anxiously right next to him.

"Gimme a sec ..." Rick said.

He felt TC's hand on his arm, then on his forehead, very, very carefully. TC obviously tried not to cause his friend any further pain.

"You're shaking," TC stated. "But you don't have a fever. That's good. The antibiotics are working."

"Okay," Rick said, taking a deep breath and when he was sure the room wasn't spinning anymore, he opened his eyes again. And looked in TC's worried face.

"Can you sit up?" TC asked.

Rick sat up a bit and took the painkillers TC handed him with his good hand, then the water bottle. He was right-handed, doing everything with his left hand wasn't that easy, but it worked. He returned the remaining water and then sank back onto the bed.

There was a whistle in his ears and he felt his pulse in his skull. It was unbelievable: it wasn't the first time he was injured, but why did this hurt so much? He felt TC's big hand on his forehead again.

Quietly, his friend murmured: "Will be better soon."

And so they remained still, for ten minutes, twenty, until the pain finally subsided and it was easier to breathe. TC disappeared for a moment and then returned. He talked to Rick quietly the whole time, but he didn't hear that anymore.

* * *

He woke up from shaking.

It was the next morning or at least there was daylight and he was alone in the bedroom. On the bedside table was a bottle of water, the painkillers were next to it, easily accessible. He didn't know if the trembling was a side effect of the drugs or if he had drunk too little in the last few days. Or maybe he got tetanus, because he couldn't remember what the first symptoms were.

He tried not to fight back and rolled to the left side to just ride it out, but the injured arm was heavy and the pulling caused pain and the increased pain caused even more tremors. For the first time, he realized how long his recovery would take. Apart from the fact that it wasn't even clear whether he could use his hand again as before. He'd been a sniper, dammit, that was probably over now.

Unless he'd really got tetanus. Then nothing would matter anymore, anyway.

With a groan he rolled onto his back and blinked. The light through the semi-transparent curtains was too bright and brought tears to his eyes.

"Hey." TC appeared next to him so suddenly that he flinched. His friend effectively blocked the disturbing light. "What's happening? Is the pain so bad? "

TC sounded helpless and that was what Rick scared. TC hadn't left his side since the veterinary clinic and had taken good care of him and now he didn't know what to do. If he didn't know, how would Rick, in his demolished state, know? He cringed in pain.

TC shook the pack of painkillers.

And the noise …

... brought him back to the street so suddenly, kneeling in front of the dog in a pool of blood. It wasn't dark, and it was not as dim as he thought he remembered, but in broad daylight. The dog lay in front of him on the side, but just got up again and when Rick heard a noise from the left, he turned his head ...

... to stare into the barrel of a handgun.

_"Orville!"_

He was back in his bedroom, breathing heavily. TC's hand was on his shoulder.

"Brother, you're scaring me. What's happening? What is it?"

He rubbed reassuringly over Rick's back, again and again, and Rick closed his eyes, trying not to freak out.

* * *

Thomas opened the door and froze in the movement.

"I didn't expect you," he said honestly. He studied Rick for a moment. "Sure you should be on your feet?" His gaze went back to TC.

TC looked at him seriously.

"Can we come in?"

"Of course." Thomas stepped aside and let them in.

They sat down and Thomas handed out water bottles. TC accepted his, but Rick just didn't react and so Thomas put the bottle on the table in front of him. Rick held his injured hand over his chest, trying to suppress the tremor. He felt the eyes of his friends on him.

Thomas sat down next to him on the couch.

"Honestly, Rick? I don't think you should be up. You're anything but okay. "

He glanced over at TC.

"TC has nothing to do with it," Rick said stubbornly. "It was my idea. He tried to talk my out of it. "

Thomas looked at him calmly.

"Of what?"

"To come here."

Thomas breathed calmly.

"To do what?"

For a long moment it was very quiet. Rick sighed and put his injured hand on his thigh. He closed his eyes for a moment.

It hurt. It hurt constantly.

"Rick?" He heard Thomas say softly. "To do _what_?"

He opened his eyes again and breathed deeply. He could deal with the pain. Or with the shaking. With both at the same time …

"Do you remember ... the retransition technique?" he asked without looking at Thomas. He looked out the window at the perfect lawn. And the sea, so far and very blue.

"No," Thomas said firmly.

Rick looked at him in surprise.

"We won't do that," Thomas explained. "You are not in the condition."

Thomas exchanged a look with TC, who nodded.

"Look at you, Rick: you're trembling all over. And you're in pain. The drugs don't work? "The question was to TC, obviously.

"Apparently not," admitted TC. "Although he takes the maximum dose."

"Then we have to go to a doctor," said Thomas. "Rick needs something effective against the pain ..." He put a hand on his shoulder, very carefully, in a gesture of support.

"It's alright," Rick said softly.

"Well, I don't think so," said Thomas.

Rick turned to him.

"I need to know what happened that night," he said. "It's driving me crazy."

Thomas sighed.

"That's not possible," he said softly. "Please understand. It would make your condition worse. You have to physically recover before we can try that. "

Rick gave up.

His friends wanted the best for him, he knew that, but he couldn't say for sure how long he could stand it before he lost his mind.

Thomas gently pulled him into a hug.

"Everything will be alright," he said calmly. "But you have to get well first."

Rick let it happen. He let everything happen.


	5. Chapter 5

And again it was getting dark.

He looked out of the window at the garden, where now the contours were blurred and the objects dissolved. He couldn't remember the last few hours – or minutes? -, but somehow he was getting used to the fact that time seemed to go by differently since he ... had this accident.

The dog.

He tried to recall the image of the dog once more in his mind. It had looked nice, cute, probably not yet full-grown, short-haired and mostly black. He'd only bitten out of fear, Rick knew that, not out of malice.

He wondered how the dog was doing.

"Are you brooding?" TC asked him.

He raised his head slightly. He was still sitting in the same place on Thomas's couch, as he had for how long, he had no idea. The pain in the hand was no less, but the tremor had passed. Maybe it was the quiet surroundings on the estate, or the fact that Thomas has been trying to calm both of them down: Rick _and_ TC, who was running out of ideas now.

"Don't you have to work at some point?" Rick asked him, honestly surprised.

TC smiled halfheartedly.

"Is that a sacking?"

"No," Rick said. For a moment he felt surprisingly clear. "But you've been with me all the time since ... since …"

TC's smile widened.

"Someone has to take care of you," he said. "What about the pain?"

"It's okay," Rick said stubbornly.

"It's time for a new dose."

Rick closed his eyes.

"Afterwards it's always worse than before, TC …"

When no answer came, he opened his eyes again. He heard voices in the background.

Thomas. And Higgins.

TC nodded.

"Thomas is right. We need another painkiller for you. "

"That would be nice," Rick replied politely.

And then suddenly Higgins was next to him on the couch, putting a hand on his cheek.

"You're not any better," she said in horror. She looked at TC as if he could do something about it, then back to Rick. "You must be in great pain."

"It's okay," Rick repeated and TC rolled his eyes.

"I don't think so," Higgins replied.

That same evening they drove back to the hospital.

The doctors wanted to keep Rick there, but he mobilized his last strength and protested against it. So he was given another analgesic and the second of three tetanus shots and was sent home with best wishes.

Or in this case to the estate of Robin Masters.

Because as it turned out, TC _had_ to work at some point.

* * *

The new painkillers worked better and he slept for 16 hours.

Only once in the morning did Thomas wake him to look after him and make sure he took the antibiotics on time. Thomas also made sure that Rick had everything he needed, pain killers and water within reach, and he tried to persuade Rick to eat a bit, but Rick wasn't having any of it. Everything was like a haze around him, but the pain was just dull and bearable and that was all that mattered at the moment.

Thomas stayed at his bedside for a while, but he didn't say anything and Rick couldn't possibly tell how much time passed, it seemed like hours. Finally, Thomas sighed.

"I have to go," he said. "Higgins and I have a case. Kumu is in the house and takes care of you. So you're not alone, okay? "

He had learned to accept the care of his friends, so Rick just answered, "Okay."

* * *

Higgins and Kumu had put him in one of the bedrooms in the main house, one with a sea view, knowing he loved the ocean.

But now the thin gauze curtains were drawn and the room darkened because the antibiotics had made him sensitive to light.

The floor-to-ceiling window was a bit open to let in air and a light breeze went through the curtains. Rick watched them go back and forth for a long time.

Kumu had regularly looked after him; he had been more or less awake. But he had noticed that she left the dogs with him to keep him company and he found that very thoughtful. She knew that he liked the animals and every now and then one of the Dobermans laid his head on the bed and Rick scratched it a little behind the ears. But every movement was still exhausting and he tried to save his strength.

In the early afternoon hours, he drifted between sleep and waking, too tired to do anything properly and at the same time unable to fall asleep. The pain came back slowly and he knew he had to do something about it while it was still in check. But he was just too tired to move. One of the dogs raised its head and whimpered. A little later Kumu entered the room, moved almost silently to his bed and then settled gracefully on the edge of it.

"You have to drink something," she said.

Rick gathered all his strength to turn his head in her direction.

"And take your painkillers," she added.

Rick closed his eyes again and tried to muster the energy to move. He felt Kumu's hand as light as a feather on his forehead.

"Rick," she said softly. "Please."

* * *

After that, he slept again for a few hours, once the painkillers worked. He didn't notice that Thomas and Higgins looked after him, but in the evening he became more alert and began to feel better. The day ended as it had begun: Thomas sat in a chair by his bed studying something on his cell phone. Maybe he played a game or looked something up. Anyway, his attention wasn't so tied up that he didn't hear Rick move. He looked up and smiled at him, but it seemed a bit forced.

"How're you doing?" he asked.

Rick thought for a moment, then he didn't find it wrong to say, "Fine."

Thomas still looked worried.

"How bad is the pain?"

"Bearable."

Thomas nodded thoughtfully and took a pill bottle from the nightstand. He seemed to read the lable, as if he hadn't done this a thousand times the night before.

"They gave you morphine yesterday 'cause your pain was beyond control."

He didn't have to illustrate that; Rick knew enough about field medicine to classify morphine. This is the drug that is given when the patient doesn't respond to anything else.

"Strong stuff," he only said.

Thomas looked at him intensely.

"We'll have to stop them gradually, the doctors said. But most important is that you're not in such a great pain anymore, so you'll take them for a few days. "

"Thomas ..." Rick said tiredly. "I know the procedure."

Thomas nodded again and ran his hands through his hair. He appeared so tense that Rick felt sorry.

"Then you also know that you should try to get up so that your circulation won't collapse."

He smiled slightly.

"And you'll finally have to eat something. Otherwise Kumu will go nuts. "


	6. Chapter 6

La Mariana still had to get along without him, but they assured him that the employees had a grip on everything. TC regularly went by and checked on them, but that evening he was on the estate and looked after his friends. And he did that also on the following day and the day after that.

Rick felt better every day, but he saw that his friends were still watching him. Big part of the investigative work of the two detectives had been moved to the main house so that they could take care of Rick, but a good week after the incident he was now so well that he preferred to spend the day on the beach. Not that he could go for long walks - he was exhausted after a few hundred yards - but he could sit in the sand and look at the sea. Kumu insisted he take the dogs and he didn't mind.

He pondered a lot. About what had happened to him and the white spots of his memory. By now that he was more in control of himself again, he didn't mind so much anymore, or maybe it was just the strong medications. The morphine made him tired and moody and he felt the glances his friends exchanged when they tried to talk to him and he just didn't find it worth while to answer them. He knew how rude it was, but he couldn't help it. Probably they thought that he was totally crazy now or maybe they just saw how sick he still was.

On sunday evening, TC sat next to him in the sand and said nothing for a while, just looked at the sea.

"How're you feeling, bro?" he finally asked softly. "And be honest, please."

He turned to Rick.

"We're all very worried about you."

Rick held his gaze.

"I've been better," he admitted, then broke eye contact and tugged at his bandage. "It itches like hell."

TC smiled gently. "Be patient," he said. "You need time to recover."

Rick sighed.

"Patience is not my strength," he said.

"Yes," TC said calmly. "It is."

He was referring to Rick's skills as a sniper and he was right again.

They were silent for a while and Rick felt that he was relaxing in the presence of his friend.

"By the way," TC then pointed out. "The veterinary clinic called."

Rick looked up.

"What did they want?"

TC snorted in amusement.

"You brought the dog in and paid for his treatment, even though you may not remember it. They wanted to know if you wanna keep him. "

Rick suddenly felt very cold. He stared blankly at TC.

* * *

The waiting room of the veterinary clinic was almost deserted on this monday evening. Rick remembered it differently, but in the end he could no longer rely on his memories. TC went to the reception counter and talked to one of the staff while Thomas stayed with him.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Sure," Rick answered almost automatically, but then TC waved to them and they followed him down a corridor. There were cages in which small animals squatted and waited for their owners, then there were larger cages, half of which were empty and finally the staff nurse stopped in front of one.

"This is yours," she told Rick, as a matter of course, taking a step aside.

Rick crouched down. There he was lying on his side, a black-gray mixed-breed just as Rick remembered. The dog fixed Rick and stood up slowly, took a hesitant step, and then approached the bars. He stuck his nose out to Rick, who held out his hand so that the dog could sniff it.

"Hey," Rick said quietly, "I don't know if you remember, but we know each other."

The dog wagged its tail.

"He recognizes you," said the nurse.

"I'm not so sure about that," Rick replied.

"Brother," TC said behind him in a husky voice. "Use your eyes."

* * *

When they left the veterinary clinic, he was still fine, but back on Robin Masters' estate, he suddenly felt shaky. He closed his eyes for a moment to control it and took a deep breath and it only took a second before he felt TC's hand on his shoulder.

"Sit down, come on," he said.

Rick sank down on a couch and heard TC and Thomas talking softly, but couldn't make out any words. When he opened his eyes, he saw them standing by the windows, engrossed in a debate. Higgins entered the room at the same moment and looked confused to the men, then to Rick. She sat down next to him.

"How did it go?" she asked.

"Fine," Rick answered and Higgins, now accustomed to Rick - Rick, of all people – not talking much, nodded.

"Did you bring him?" she asked.

"To a house inhabited by two Dobermans without asking for their – or your - permission?" Rick said. "Hardly likely."

That was more than he had been talking in the past two days and Higgins looked at him smiling.

"I'd have liked to see him," she said.

"He's still too ill," Rick replied.

TC and Thomas had finished their conversation and sat down next to them, their expressions unreadable.

"Do you want to keep him?" Higgins asked him.

"No," Rick answered firmly. "That would be ... not smart."

"You see," TC said. "That's exactly the opposite of what I think."

"I don't wanna have a dog", Rick replied tiredly.

"The other way round makes sense," TC replied. "You saved his life and are responsible for him. Only two more weeks at the most, then he'll have recovered and if _you_ don't take him, he'll go to the shelter and then, if _nobody_ takes him ... "

Rick closed his eyes for a moment and sighed.

"Blackmail doesn't help either," he told TC. "Someone will take him. He's cute."

"Exactly." TC looked challengingly at him.

"So _you_ should take him," Rick said.

"Brother, I didn't save him, that was you."

"Gentlemen, I think we're going around in circles," Higgins put in.

"And maybe Rick should not have to decide that tonight." She gave TC a meaningful look. "Kumu has been cooking and insists we all get together for dinner."

TC nodded.

"When Kumu cooks, I'm in."

* * *

Thomas waved him aside after the meal.

"I'd like to change your bandages," he told Rick. "It's been two days."

Rick followed him into the bathroom, where Thomas let him sit on the edge of the bathtub. He put on disposable gloves, laid out some utensils, then sat down on a stool opposite Rick and took his injured hand.

"I'll be very careful," he announced.

"Do what you need to do," Rick replied.

"I'm just saying. You're tense. "

Rick took a deep breath.

"Sorry."

"It's alright."

Thomas cut open the old bandage and carefully removed the gauze. As he removed the dressing, Rick involuntarily held his breath. The wound was red, but not inflamed, the sutures were prominent. It looked painful, but not too worrisome.

Nevertheless, Thomas made a thoughtful face.

"Can you move your fingers?" he asked.

"I could," Rick said. "But it would hurt."

Thomas looked up and into his eyes.

"Could you? Or is it worse than expected and you're hiding it from me? "

Rick sighed and did him the favor. He clenched his teeth and moved all five fingers slowly, just a little, but enough to reassure his friend.

"Okay?" he asked dully.

"You would have nearly lost the ability to move one or more fingers," Thomas said in a husky voice. "Or even worse. This bite was precision work. "

"Well," Rick said. "Sometimes you have to be lucky."

Thomas looked at him with an indefinable look. Then he continued his work, cleaning the wound edges with a disinfecting lotion, applying ointment, and placing a new dressing on the wound. With calm movements, he wrapped Rick's hand in gauze, not quite as thick as before.

"Is it sitting too tight?" he asked.

Rick shook his head. His strength dwindled, he realized now, minute by minute.

"We'll be done soon." Thomas seemed to sense his condition. "Hang on."

"No problem," he replied, but it became one. He started shaking, very lightly, but Thomas felt it too and paused.

"Does it hurt?" he asked worriedly. Rick shook his head.

"Go on. It's alright. "

Thomas proceeded and finished with the other bandage a little faster. Then he studied his friend.

"Do you feel sick?" he asked.

"No, I ..." Rick sighed and looked down. "I'm just ... tired."

He hated being in that condition, not even being able to hold on to something for twenty minutes. He wondered if that would ever change again. He couldn't imagine it at the moment.

"I wanna go home," he said abruptly. He didn't even know where that came from.

Thomas looked at him in surprise.

"Don't you feel comfortable here?"

"I do." Rick felt like a homesick child. "But I can't ... I don't wanna impose on our friendship. You can't be all the time- "

"Rick." Thomas placed a hand on his knee to stop him. "What are you talking about? You don't impose on anything at all. You're still way too unstable to be left on your own. It's either the hospital - or this. " Thomas shook his head. "And here you have much more peace than in the hospital. I thought you like it here. What's going on? "

"I don't know," Rick said softly. "After all that we went through together ... I don't want you any more-"

And then he didn't know what to say and helplessly raised his healthy hand. Thomas sat down next to him on the edge of the bathtub and put his arm around his shoulders.

"You're just exhausted," he said. "And sometimes our care gets too much for you, I understand that. But we're all worried about you and just want you to feel better soon."

He took a deep breath.

"And that lasts just as long as it takes."

Rick looked down.

"Yeah."

"Don't worry so much," Thomas said. "We wouldn't want you anywhere else but here. Let us take care of you. Like in the old times. "

Briefly, the memory of the war prison camp flickered through Rick's head, which no doubt Thomas was thinking about. One of them had always been ill or returned injured from the interrogation. They had had malaria in turns and they had always taken care of each other and never had it become too much for them.

"Relax," Thomas said. "If you wear yourself out like that, you won't get better faster."


	7. Chapter 7

He blamed the morphine.

The tiredness, the powerlessness, the mood swings.

He lay awake that evening, trying to ignore TC's worried looks. His friend had sat down in the chair by his bed and leafed through Robin's last book, first reading the end, then the beginning and shaking his head. Then he had looked up and noticed Rick was awake and staring at the window.

"What is it?" he asked. "Can't sleep?"

Rick didn't answer and closed his eyes, exhausted.

"Are you in pain?" TC's voice sounded closer. He was sitting on the edge of the bed. One second passed, more seconds, one minute.

"Don't do that," TC said hoarsely. "Don't ignore me."

Rick sighed and then turned back to TC. It wasn't fair, TC was right.

"I'm not ignoring you," he lied. "I ... I just hate it."

"What?"

"Being ill."

It took a moment, then TC smiled gently and placed a hand on his arm.

"That's a good sign," he said. "If you start to go bonkers, then you're on the mend."

* * *

Easy for TC to say. The following days were tough.

Healthy enough to be up, but too ill to work again, being on Robin Masters estate was sometimes hard to bear. His friends didn't let him do anything that went beyond lifting a cup of coffee, and he had the feeling all day that he was in Kumu's way, even though she assured him that that wasn't the case. But they didn't let him go home either because they were afraid he would have a relapse or simply forget to eat.

The food was a problem. In the first few days he'd been barely able to keep anything down, under the influence of the morphine everything tasted like metal and now that he was on lighter painkillers, he just couldn't get excited about the food. If his friends hadn't been, he would have just skipped eating at all, but they didn't let him get away with it. Even though he asserted that he was feeling sick - which was often the case - they tried to persuade him to eat at least a little.

He didn't miss the looks they exchanged. He occasionally overheard parts of conversations that weren't meant for his ears. They discussed him, and every word spoke of their great concern for him. Rick's stomach cramped when he heard them wondering if he would ever become his old self again. Would they ever hear his stupid punch lines again? Would they ever see him smile again?

After that, he was often worse than before, even physically. He then withdraw to the beach, sat down in the sand and one of the Dobermans put his head on his knee and looked at him questioningly.

It was getting dark on one of those evenings when Higgins found him there. The dogs heard her first, but they didn't move until Higgins sat down beside Rick.

"You should come in, it'll be cold shortly."

Rick kept looking at the water.

"You can't afford pneumonia," Higgins continued. "And brooding isn't good for you either. In your condition. "

Rick sighed.

"What's my condition?" he asked quietly.

Higgings was silent for a while.

"Sick," she said. "Convalescent after serious injuries and under the influence of strong painkillers." She paused briefly and seemed to think. "And probably brooding over the night of the accident."

She turned her head and looked at him.

"Is that true?"

"More or less," he admitted.

"Thomas and TC are very worried about you," Higgins said. "Even if I keep telling them that you only need a little more time to come back to us. You've been through a lot, but you're strong. You will survive this, too. "

She put her hand on his arm.

"Is that also true?"

He had to smile.

"Pretty much."

* * *

He considered the drawing of the threads the end of his convalescence. He got the third tetanus shot and got his life back.

Thomas and TC exchanged doubtful looks when,two weeks after the accident, he announced that he would be working again, that he had left La Mariana alone long enough. And go back home, because he would have taken the hospitality on the property long enough.

"You sure you're stable enough for that?" Thomas asked.

"Yeah," Rick said tensely, "I am. I can't lie down anymore and do nothing. I would go crazy soon. "

His friends looked at each other. The doctors had given their okay, what else should they say.

"Look," Rick said, "I can't tell you two how grateful I am for you took care of me. I wouldn't have survived that without you. "

"Hey, man," TC said, shakily. "It's alright."

He took two steps closer and hugged Rick.

"But please don't do that again so soon."

Rick smiled as Thomas hugged him, too.

"It's not easy to let them go," Thomas told TC. "They are growing so fast."

"Jackass," Rick said. "And thank you."

Thomas looked at him tightly.

"Always, brother."

* * *

Everyday life had him back quickly.

The La Mariana was a wonderful place to work and he felt the rustic and ancient atmosphere calm him down. Everything went as it should; there was a lot to do and he made good progress. The thing started to make a profit and he put all his focus on the work.

TC came by every night, sometimes Thomas or Higgins or both visited him during the day, looking after him. Not a day went by that one of his friends didn't see how he was doing. Sometimes, they sent Kumu, who always asserted that she had just happened to be nearby.

But something was still gnawing at him. Some small voice spoke to him from within.

* * *

He wasn't at the shelter yet.

He was still in the same cage and as Rick sat down on the floor beside the bars and reached out his hand, he came closer.

He looked good. The bandage was gone and no fur had yet grown, but his eyes sparkeled when he saw Rick and he tried to lick his hand through the bars, the injured one, of all things.

"Maybe he wants to apologize," the pierced girl said, sitting cross-legged next to him.

"There is nothing to apologize for," Rick objected.

"Will you take him with you?" she wanted to know. "Tomorrow he'd go to the shelter. And after three months ... "

"It's alright," Rick said. "I'll take him."

* * *

TC froze as he entered the bar that evening.

In the corner of the room, Rick had laid out an old blanket, in the absence of a dog basket. The dog didn't look as if he missed something. As TC settled next to him, the dog raised its head and tapped its tail on the blankets.

"Hey," TC said pleased. "You won his heart, huh? I knew you could do it. "

He scratched the dog behind the ears.

Rick stepped in and looked down at the scene.

TC grinned at him.

"Told you, bro."

Rick shrugged.

"Maybe it's only temporary."

TC got up and sat down at the bar. Rick stepped behind the counter, opened a beer, and handed it to his friend. Then he reached for a receipt, studied it, and began to mix a cocktail.

"Yeah, sure," TC said.

* * *

He wasn't the same anymore and he couldn't help it.

Even as he'd got off the medication, he still felt dulled, emotionally dizzy. He could do again what he had done before the accident, but he felt nothing. And he thought a lot about how a car accident and two dog bites had changed him.

He knew that his friends saw it too. They still took care of him, but he kept them at bay the best he could. He saw their confused looks and then their intent to treat him as they always did, as if he were still the same. It had to be hard for them. And he really was sorry. They shouldn't have to do that.

He thought about leaving the island in the dead of night. But they would find him. They would track him everywhere, no matter where he went.

So he stayed. And lived one day at a time.


	8. Chapter 8

He sent a message in the Ohana thread and parked the Porsche on the roadside.

Then he sat down on the bonnet, cautiously folded his arms over his chest and waited. The dog was sitting on the street a few feet in front of him, occasionally casting a blank look over his shoulder, as if to ask what Rick was planning.

Thomas arrived first, parked behind his car and got out. He stroked the dog once over the head, then he walked over to Rick and stopped beside him.

"What're you up to?"

"I wanna try something, but I don't know if I can do it alone. Hence my request for help. "

Thomas shook his head.

"You didn't have to come," Rick added, but Thomas waved this away.

"That's not it. Of course I'll help. I'm glad when you _finally _ask for help. " Thomas looked intently at his friend until Rick turned away.

"Rick," Thomas said gently. "I don't know what's wrong with you, but please don't push us away."

"I'm not," Rick replied, looking down the street.

"Yes, you do," said Thomas. "No one comes close to you." He took a deep breath. "Don't shut us out, bro …"

Rick shook his head, at the same moment TC's bus stopped next to them.

TC looked out the driver's window.

"What's going on?" he asked. "Do we need weapons?"

Rick blinked at the sun as he looked up at his friend.

"Probably not," he answered. "But who knows?"

His phone pinged and Rick pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the display. It was Higgins with the urgent request not to start without her.

* * *

His three friends looked at him with a mixture of skepticism and curiosity. Rick took a deep breath. This would be difficult. Emotionally, maybe. He just couldn't do so well with emotions right now. What had he been thinking?

"So?" Higgins asked, shielding her eyes with her hand from the sun.

"This is the scene of the accident," Rick said. The expression in the eyes of his friends changed immediately. "I know you know that. Thomas, Jules, you've learned that from the police and even investigated. I found out ... "

Nobody said anything, but all three looked at him. None of them looked guilty. So what? To blame someone was not what he was after.

He stepped into the middle of the unpaved road.

"I still don't know what I wanted here. It's deserted here and I was on my way to you, so ... "He raised his uninjured hand in a helpless gesture. "I just don't remember. So that's not helping."

He nodded his head to the dog, who was still looking confused.

"I thought if we bring _him_ back here, he might take us to where he came from. That would be at least a start."

His friends exchanged glances.

"What?" Rick asked.

"Rick," Thomas spoke. "As promising as your theory sounds, we're not so sure that ... it would be good for you to rip open healed wounds."

Rick shook his head blankly.

"I thought you wanted to help me, Thomas?"

"Yes," Thomas confirmed. "And I really want to. But not if we do something that will hurt you. "

Rick stared at him. For a moment it was as if none of them were breathing.

"I can do it alone, too," Rick said angrily, taking a step toward the embankment.

"Wait a sec." TC took a step forward and held him back with one hand on his shoulder. "Not so fast."

He waited until Rick finally looked at him.

"Calm down. We're worried about you and you know that. So please understand that we just want to protect you. "

Rick shook off TC's hand.

"Please understand," he began, not a little calmer, "that there are no healed wounds there. I didn't remember the incident immediately after it happened and I don't remember now. Nothing has gotten better, TC. Nothing has settled there. And I think about it every day. Every day!"

"It's okay," TC said softly. "Come down, will ya?"

This simple request completely took away Rick's anger. He felt himself tremble again and saw TC put his hand back on his shoulder. He felt the gentle pressure as TC tried to make him understand he was on his side.

Higgins and Thomas whispered something, then moved closer.

"We'll make you a suggestion," Higgins told Rick and looked at TC, who nodded.

"We'll send the dog and will follow him for the time being. Should we see that you're not feeling well, we will stop the expedition immediately and repeat it at a later date. "She studied him. "And you have to trust our judgment. We would promise to try again later."

Rick stared at her. So beautiful and so smart. How had she stepped in their life, again?

"Rick?" Thomas's voice asked.

"It's okay," he answered, looking at his friend.

Thomas nodded to him. TC once more nicely slapped Rick on the shoulder and then turned to his bus. He opened the tailgates and took out a weapon from the back of the truck. Higgins and Thomas also armed themselves. Rick wrapped a backpack over his shoulders and hung his rifle over his left shoulder, then squatted down in front of the dog in the street. The dog looked at him and panted nervously.

"You ready?" Rick asked. The dog didn't break eye contact. Then Rick got up and made a simple gesture with his left. The dog began to move and hurried purposefully on a narrow path in the undergrowth.

"Great," TC said quietly as he started beating his way behind his friends through the bushes.

* * *

The path became narrower, sometimes wider, but it was not quite a hiking trail. Now and then the dog looked around for them and then trotted on.

"What's it's name?" Higgins asked, bending aside a plant that was in her way.

"Who? The path? "TC asked.

"The dog."

"Yo, _John Wick_," TC called to the front, where Thomas and Rick struggled with the vegetation.

Rick sighed, stopped and looked back at them.

"Does your dog still have no name?" asked TC. "I told you, he cannot run around like that. Nameless."

"He hasn't told me yet," Rick said.

Higgins and TC both stared at him.

"That was a joke," Rick sighed and turned to go again.

"Sorry, Bro," TC said. "We're not used to hearing jokes of you again."

"So he doesn't have a name?" Higgins called after Rick.

"No."

Higgins cast a confused look at TC. He shrugged.

* * *

After half an hour they were exhausted; the path was impassable. Rick reached into his backpack and handed out water bottles and they drank, all four lost in thought. The dog sat next to them until Rick made a gesture and the dog lay down.

"What's that dog whisperer stuff?" TC asked. "You communicate non-verbally, or what?"

"I found out by accident," Rick said thoughtfully. "He's trained. On gestures."

"Uh-huh."

TC looked at Thomas, who shrugged.

"And you found out how?" TC asked again.

"As I said, randomly."

TC sighed and counted noticeably to ten, silently.

"And what do we conclude from this?" he asked patiently.

Rick looked at him and a trace of his old wit sparkled in his eyes.

"That's not a stray," he explained. "He was somebody's dog."

* * *

They looked at the GPS Higgins had with them and determined their position before continuing. They were in the middle of a national park and what they didn't expect, after they had continued their way for another ten minutes, was a wooden house in the middle of nowhere.

"That can not have been legally built here," Higgins said.

Thomas immediately fell into occupational mode.

"Be careful," he warned, raising his weapon. "It looks abandoned, but maybe it's not."

Rick called back the dog, who wanted to get to work at the front door and let him sit down on the edge of the terrain. The first command went unheard, only when Rick's voice - although whispering - became sharper, the dog sat down.

Thomas exchanged a look with Higgins and TC.

"Looks like he's at home here," he said.

All four had their weapons drawn, then they cautiously approached and Thomas slowly opened the door.

TC was at the back of the hut, Higgins got their six as Thomas opened the door and slowly moved into the room, Rick close behind him.

They had done this a thousand times in their lives: taken an unknown, potentially threatening place. They were so familiar with each other that they didn't have to think about it, keeping each other safe while quickly looking around the room. Rick secured the side rooms, Thomas looked into the closet: nothing.

"Guys," TC shouted from outside.

His voice sounded strange. Rick and Thomas exchanged a concerned look, then withdrew from the main room and circled the house. They both stopped abruptly when they saw what awaited them: TC stood over the corpse of a man whose head was a single gunshot wound and who had been lying dead in the yard for weeks. The dog sat beside it  
and whimpered.

It stank abominably.


	9. Chapter 9

The red-blue glow of the emergency vehicle was missing, which otherwise always marked a crime scene. Instead, the forces of the Honolulu Police Department had come on foot because there was no other option. Nevertheless, they were swarming everywhere.

Rick had grabbed the dog by the collar and got him out of sight of the body. Now he crouched beside him on the edge of the action, scratching his neck and watching the action from afar. Higgins had sat down with him a while ago and Rick didn't know if she wanted to get out of the way of the police or give him moral support, but he didn't mind. He poured some water into his left hand and let the dog drink from it.

Higgins watched him thoughtfully.

"You prefer to use your left hand," she said. "Although you are right-handed."

He looked up.

"Are you still in such a pain?" Higgins asked.

Rick shrugged.

"Guess I got used to use my left hand."

She nodded.

"Are you?" she prompted.

"What?"

"In pain."

"Hardly," he replied, but his attention was distracted as Thomas and Katsumoto approached him.

"Rick," Katsumoto said as he came to stand in front of them. "Are you well enough to have your statement recorded?"

"Sure," Rick said. "Why not? Stay," he addressed the dog. "Stay with Jules. Be a good boy."

Higgins smiled and put her hand on the nameless dog's back as Thomas sat down beside her in the dust. Together, they watched as Rick and Katsumoto stepped aside and the cop drew his notebook.

* * *

Nothing happened on the long way back. It was not until the friends parted and wanted to get in their cars. Rick pulled the car keys from his trouser pocket, it fell out of his hand and onto the street, right in front of the bonnet of the Porsche. As Rick bent down to pick up the keys, the whole scene crashed down on him, with full force.

His hands were trembling and they were full of blood.

He crouched in front of the Porsche, the wounded dog on the ground in front of him, a man yelled at him from behind and when he turned around, he stared into the barrel of a gun ... then it suddenly became dark.

His knees buckled and he staggered, had to hold onto the car and slid to the ground. The blood rushed in his ears and he was barely able to hear anything. The trembling of his whole body also made it impossible for him to think straight. He lowered his head to block out the sunlight that was suddenly too bright, to hide from all of the stimuli around him. If only the trembling had not been.

He raised his arms to block everything from the outside. He could hardly breathe.

Someone crouched beside him and grabbed him by both shoulders, talking to him, but he couldn't make out any words. Someone rubbed his back reassuringly, pulled him into a hug and held him tight. The tremor didn't diminish, but that someone didn't go away either.

* * *

When he awoke, he knew immediately that he was in the hospital.

He felt again like he did under the influence of morphine and what he had gotten now was probably not very far away. Thinking was hard, but he knew that what his friends had witnessed was bad when he was in a hospital bed.

He was sorry.

And he felt sick again.

He could barely move, everything spiraled around him. A sedative, probably, a heavy one. Nevertheless, he opened his eyes and saw a mint green wall in front of him, one beside him and various devices beside his bed. A chair by his bed, Thomas, who rose immediately when he saw that Rick was awake. Thomas hissed something over his shoulder, something rustled and TC stepped to the foot of his bed.

And he fell asleep again.

Thomas was also there when he awoke the second time and immediately at his side. He reached out of Rick's field of vision somewhere, bringing out a soft rag and wiped Rick's forehead. He looked very worried, a crease between his eyes.

"You couldn't stomach the medication," he said, as if they were in the middle of a conversation. "You had to vomit three times already."

Thomas studied his face.

"Not right now," Rick informed him as a precaution and Thomas nodded.

"But you're pretty dehydrated now."

Thomas's gaze moved to the infusion bag.

"So another round."

Rick closed his eyes again. Apparently he didn't go anywhere anytime soon.

"Where is ... TC?"

"I'm here, brother," his friend said to his right, and Rick felt TC's hand settle on his arm. "I'm here."

"Higgins took your dog to the property," Thomas said next to him. His voice became quieter. "She'll be back later."

"_Rick?_"

He opened his eyes again; it was so exhausting.

"You have to drink something," demanded Thomas.

How much had passed? Was he drifting in and out?

"No ..." Rick said informatively. "I feel sick."

"Yes, my friend, I know," Thomas replied patiently. "But still."

He put a straw to Rick's lips and he drank, not much, just enough to calm Thomas down. After that, he was completely exhausted and his eyes closed.

"Get some rest, brother," he heard Thomas say quietly. "We're here."

* * *

The third time was deep at night.

Both of his friends sat uncomfortably on chairs to the left of his bed and slept. But Higgins was there, sitting on his right edge of the bed, holding the rag Thomas had used before. She smiled at him and Rick couldn't keep himself awake any longer.

The fourth time it was early morning and it was much better.

He felt better too, the nausea was gone, medicated, probably. The dizziness had passed as well, but he felt still so dulled.

TC sat beside his bed, arms crossed and thoughtful-looking, but when Rick made a small noise, the tall man looked up and smiled at him.

"Brother," he said. "How do you feel?"

How often have somebody asked him that in the last few weeks.

"Better," he said truthfully. "What happened?"

TC sighed. He pulled his chair closer to Rick's bed.

"You had a panic attack, out of nowhere. Your heart rate was so high that the paramedics of the HPD immediately sent you to the hospital. It took a while to get that under control. "

Rick read between the lines: a panic attack that wasn't endured in the embrace of a friend, but brought one to the emergency room, was bad. If his pulse had been so high that the paramedics couldn't exclude a threatening heart attack, then his friends had really had a busy evening.

"I'm sorry," he said.

TC brushed that aside.

"I don't think you asked for it."

Rick studied the tired features of his friend. _It took a while to get that under_ _control._ How long had his friends been worried about his life? He would ask Higgins later, he decided.

"And then you couldn't stand the tranquilizers. If that hadn't been, you would be much better now. "

And he had vomited. In front of his friends. Mind you.

But TC had already experienced him in quite different situations: in captivity, they had also experienced things that one would otherwise prefer to keep private. There had been no privacy in Korengal. Have one had malaria or dengue, the comrades have kept you alive. By all means.

"Don't worry." TC read his thoughts. "We're glad that you're feeling better now."

He looked at him intently.

"And you won't come home until the doctors say it's okay."

* * *

He was tired. It was explained to him why it was and he immediately forgot it. Once he caught Higgins alone and asked her about the circumstances of that certain night, the former MI6 agent's eyes filled with tears and he immediately regretted asking her. She first had to collect her thoughts and then recounted an abridged version of how the paramedics in the ambulance had given one round of medication after another, to no effect, and Rick had finally been hospitalized unconscious and with a pulse of nearly 200. The friends had had no access to the treatment room, but the mere fact that he could not even sit up alone told them how invasive the treatment had been.

Then he had been in intensive care for one day and one night and wasn't moved to a normal ward until the following morning.

What he remembered was a whole day later than he had thought. He had lost a day.

* * *

They didn't find him, the man who'd killed the owner of his dog, shot the dog and knocked Rick unconcious. Much later, when they were back in the beach hut on Robin Masters' estate, to start a lazy weekend, Thomas and Higgins recounted how they had tried to piece together everything and had come to the conclusion that the murder had happened because simply something went wrong.

Rick and the dog had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The killer could have killed Rick as well, but he'd probably just beaten him down, which would explain Rick's confusion after the accident and the memory lapses. No one in the hospital had examined him for a possible concussion because everyone had seen only the bite marks. Even after his friends pointed out that Rick was behaving strangely, the doctors had simply ignored it.

"That means there's a killer out there," Rick said, glancing down at the dog that was sitting in front of him.

His friends exchanged glances and nodded.

"And if he finds the dog, he'll find me too," Rick said and looked up.

"And then he might end what he started."

Thomas looked down and took a deep breath, then looked up again and met Rick's gaze.

"I'll do anything to make sure that doesn't happen," he said seriously.

"_We_," Higgins corrected gently.

"_We_," added TC.

Thomas smiled, in spite of everything.

"Yes - we. _We_ will do everything to ensure that nothing happens to you. We'll find the killer, Rick, I promise you."

Rick scratched the dog behind the ears, lost in thought.

"I know that," he said softly. He sighed. "Thank you for everything. You really had to deal with a lot in the last few weeks. "

"Brother," said TC. "Anytime."

Rick looked from TC to Higgins, who smiled at him, to Thomas, who nodded, then to his dog, who twisted his neck to look at him.

He smiled.

"I don't deserve all of you."

* * *

Author's note: Thank all of you for the ride. Thanks for sticking with me, my fuzzy english and the story with the unfinished case. Doh! There will be a sequel to that and maybe a third story - the unnamed-dog trilogy. I think I will start the sequel with an epilogue chapter to this one, so you can keep your story alerts. Writing is not easy, translating it into proper english is even harder. So it'll take a while.

Writing this was really fun and calmed my nerves while waiting for a sparkle of the spirit of season one in season two. I am a bit unhappy with season two so far - not enough brotherhood, not enough of Rick and TC. Fixed that for me.


	10. Chapter 10: Coda

"I'm going to get coffee," Higgins offered, getting up.

TC unfolded his shape from the chair.

"I help you."

They made their way to the main house in silence. It was only in the kitchen when Higgins put coffee on and TC dropped heavily on a chair that Higgins looked at her friend.

"Are you all right?"

TC sighed.

"It will still be a long way."

Higgins looked at him blankly and TC nodded towards the beach.

"Rick," he said. "He's not nearly as healthy as he'd like us to believe."

Higgins thought for a moment.

"You know him too well to be fooled by him," she said finally. "And he knows that. He probably just wants you and Thomas not to worry too much about him. "

TC muttered something unintelligible, then said dully, "Attempt failed."

Higgins leaned back against the kitchen counter.

"TC," she said softly. "You take good care of him. You were with him when he had the panic attac. Thomas and you haven't let him out of your sight for days afterwards. If he gets worse, you'll notice. "

TC shook his head, not convinced.

"The dog will notice sooner," he said growling.

"The nameless dog." Higgins smiled. "Why does Rick refuse to give him a name? I didn't understand that."

TC grimaced.

"He still thinks it's only temporarily. But got him a dog tag, had him chipped and everything. "

Higgins narrowed her eyes slightly.

"Why are you so convinced that he should keep him? You fight really hard for it. "

"I think the dog is good for him." TC shook his head in disbelief. "Rick has withdrawn from all of us."

"Yes," Higgins said. "Thomas can hardly stand it. Neither can you, I think. "

"Yes," TC said. "We don't know him like that. Rick ... the Marine he was, sniper, a crook's foster-son ... but actually he's very sensitive. If he now closes himself up like that, it can only mean that he has to process something that's too much for him. And we'd like to help him with that. But he doesn't let us. "

"The dog is the only one that can get through to him right now," Higgins understood.

"Yeah. It's hurts Thomas and me to watch this, but the dog doesn't ask him anything. He can only give comfort where we cannot. "

Higgins glanced at her friend. Then she put a hand on his shoulder.

"It hurts me too," she said in a husky voice. "But I believe in Rick's strength. He'll come back to you, TC. To us. It will only take time. "

TC nodded and put his hand on hers.

"Thanks, Higgy."

* * *

Thanks for reading this. It is actually the bridge to part 2 of the story: watch out for "It's raining again", coming up soon.


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